One Hundred Things You'll Forget to Say
by blaineboughtcheesecake
Summary: Eighty, I think we both know why I'm numbering these. Pretty much everything is numbers and counting and how many more days now.


Dear Blaine,

Hi. It's Kurt. I suppose you knew that, however. My handwriting is pretty distinct. At least you always thought so. I mean, of course you didn't know it was _me _by the envelope_, _but you knew it was me. If that makes sense... it probably doesn't.

Today is December, 26. It's a day after Christmas. I loved your present, by the way. Thank you. I will wear it with pride. I've been waiting long enough. It's been wrapped in our room since you left.

Anyway, there are a few things I forgot to say when you boarded your plane. One, you always repeat the things I say back to me (and I love it). Two, you always repeat the things I say back to me. Third, I love you. Fourth, I love you too. I just thought you should know.

Fifth, (Honestly, these could go on forever.) I'm in pretty bad shape. I don't know if you can tell, but there are little bruises on my back that have yellowed and browned, until they are almost completely ignorable. New York City "girls' night" hasn't been treating me as well as I'd hoped. I sort of, well, was jumped. But, hey, it's NYC? What can you do?

Seventh, I miss you.

Eighth, I still miss you.

Ninth, are you coming back soon? (Just kidding, I know when you're coming back. And yes, I know it's not soon... well, it doesn't seem soon.)

Tenth, I really hate the government right now.

Eleventh, I hope you're safe. I mean, you're not _safe, _but you're eating your vegetables and keeping your head down, right? Keep those guns loaded. (No, I don't mean the ones on your arms.) Please, god, be careful.

Twelfth, for Christmas, I'm visiting Burt and Carole. Can you believe they got a fourteen foot tall tree? Okay, picture my dad's living room and the biggest Christmas tree you've ever seen. Now add me and the 'rents trying to add 2,000-ish ornaments.

Thirteen, I really hope that made you laugh.

Fourteen, have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?

Fifteen, I love your laugh.

Sixteen, I'm not crying right now. I swear. You told me to promise, so I'm not.

Seventeen, I think about you a lot. You better think about me a lot too because I'll be damned if we aren't as romantic as Dear John. You're a hotter soldier than that old meaty wannabe anyway.

Eighteen, if you dare get all worried and distracted because I was jumped, I will never bake you anything again. Seriously though, don't sweat it. The whole thing was my fault... sort of.

Nineteen, did you see and cute guys while you were working out? Really? I'm the only cute one you see? Well, thank you Blaine.

Twenty, Carole asked me how you were doing. And then, after I told her you were starving for some good Carole cooking, she told me she'd make you a feast when you get back.

Twenty one, I really can't wait till you get back.

Twenty two, do you remember when we first moved into our apartment?

Twenty three, there's too many things that I love about you. (Even your snore.)

Twenty four, did you know there's only twenty four more days until you get back. I've been counting.

Twenty five, god I wish you were mean. If you were mean, you would've never gone.

Twenty six, but I'm happy you're doing something important.

Twenty seven, I still miss you though.

Twenty eight, Dad and I fixed a car at the auto-shop. Can you believe it? Me and a car... together. It's almost as weird as you and cuddling Margaret Thatcher dog. Really, Blaine, that thing has _mold. _Well, not quite mold but close enough.

Twenty nine, I splurged the other day. I bought you a present. I hope you don't mind... but you won't because it's the perfect present.

Thirty, _Now that we are lonely_

_Life seems to get hard_

_Alone what a word lonely_

_Alone it makes me cry_

_Thought-train set in motion_

_Wheels in and around_

_Express our emotion_

_Tracks up then it cracks down_

Thirty one, if you don't know what song that is I honestly don't know you anymore.

Thirty two, are you okay?

Thirty-three, I mean like are you really okay? I read people get have PSTD and such after doing what you do and I...

Thirty-four, I miss everything about you.

Thirty-five, I miss your voice.

Thirty-six, I miss your eyes.

Thirty-seven, I miss your nose.

Thirty-eight, I miss your mouth.

Thirty-nine, I miss your brain and the way you think.

Forty, I miss what you say.

Forty-one, I miss how you say it.

Forty-two, I miss how much I love you.

Forty-three, I'm not crying.

Forty-four, I'm really not crying.

Forty-five, I'm not.

Forty-six, you'll be here for your birthday.

Forty seven, Rachel keeps downloading karaoke tracks onto Finn's laptop. And now I can't blackmail him with internet browser history because Rachel already saw it. You've got to help me find something. How else am I going to get him to save the last double chocolate fudge cookie for you?

Forty-eight, It's two in the morning in Ohio.

Forty-nine, I wonder what you're doing right now. Are you safe? Are you okay?

Fifty, I never ask myself if you're alive, you know. But I do worry. Please keep your head down. Please run if you have to. Please, Blaine. I know I'm being selfish.

Fifty-one, for Christmas I got a book about fashion design, a few shoes, and a visa gift card. Rachel sang me a song because she's trying to save up money for a family trip to Paris. And by family, she means me, you, her, and Finn. Help us all.

Fifty-two, I memorized the last lines of _When Harry Met Sally_ for you. The movie, unfortunately, had been unbearable without you, though. I need my Harry.

Fifty-three, and no, I don't mean Harry the Homeless Man who lives in the garbage dump down the street.

Fifty-four, I don't even think his name is Harry, Blaine.

Fifty-five, in fact, I've been doing a lot of reminiscing lately. Teenage Dream came on the radio the other day. The DJ said, "Now, here's a song from way back." We're from way back, Blaine. (But, I mean, really? It was only ten years ago or so.) Anyway, I had to pull over because all I could think about was you and the Warblers. It's too bad that's our song. We need a new song, Blaine.

Fifty-six, I really like your name. It's not pompous, I promise. It's very nice and charming. So stop saying how much you hate it.

Fifty-seven, I snapped my fingers at the waiter last night. And then I felt really bad. Do you see what you've done, Blaine?

Fifty-eight, I know, I'm sorry for doing it. Old habits die hard, right? I'm trying. But the cheesecake hadn't come for twelve minutes. I was getting antsy!

Fifty-nine, speaking of that, remember when Mrs. Pillsbury tried to give you a pamphlet about obsessive collecting? (One word: Bow ties.) And then the hair gel pamphlets? Oh gosh, and _I Can't Stop Dressing like the Godfather? _I'm still a little confused about that one...

Sixty, I'm still not sleepy. What do you suggest? You know, other than a back rub. When you get home, will you give me a back rub?

Sixty-one, do you miss me as much as I miss you? Please don't.

Sixty-two, guess who's still not crying? This guy!

Sixty-three, I don't think I can wait twenty four more days.

Sixty-four, at work the other day, I met this girl with a shiny car and a checkbook screaming to be used. So now I'm making an outfit for this unthinkably large amount of money. I want to buy a hot tub with that money, Blaine.

Sixty-five, I told Finn and he said he'll never get in a hot tub again... whatever that means.

Sixty-six, think of how much fun a hot tub would be. Our future nieces and nephews would love us forever. Family gatherings, Blaine! We could be that family. You know, with the cookouts and Fourth of July barbeques and stuff. Except I refuse to be seen at a barbeque.

Sixty-seven, remember how I told you Cooper was thinking about moving near us? Well, I think he's really decided on an answer. I'll let him tell you when he gets back.

Sixty-eight, should I wear the blue bow tie with the white polka dots tomorrow or the red one with the silver stripes?

Sixty-nine, do you think distance really makes the heart grow fonder?

Seventy, I'm plotting out our whole month together. I'm making pasta for you on the first night. Do you know how many carbohydrates are in pasta? Be happy I love you.

Seventy-one, Dad's birthday is next month, remember? I think we should visit them and throw him a party. I think he'd like that.

Seventy-two, when you get home (I talk about that a lot, don't I?) we should go to the Lima Bean. And when we get home-home, we can go to all of our sentimental NYC/NYC Suburb spots. And god, I'm excited.

Seventy-three, so, Soldier Anderson, twenty four more days.

Seventy-four, Finn tried to get me to play Call of Duty today. Yeah, I wasn't very happy. I still don't understand how you bear to play that game. It's awful. You and those boys... COD obsessions. (If you couldn't tell, I'm rolling my eyes right now.)

Seventy-five, I'm actually really happy you, Finn, and the other New Direction guys still have a really great bond. I know we're a little unconventional... you know, with me always wanting to hang with the girls... and I'm sorry I'm not the manliest, even though you're always telling me I'm the bravest man you know and I... just, thank you for putting up with me.

Seventy-six, sorry if that was a little too much... angst.

Seventy-seven, but you know how it is... play with one Barbie in fifth grade and it's like you've committed genocide. But you know... I hold no grudges... but that Barbie was the best dressed, that you can be sure of.

Seventy-eight, so... about the hot tub... doesn't it make those twenty four days seem so long.

Seventy-nine, why am I still numbering these?

Eighty, I think we both know why I'm numbering these. Pretty much everything is numbers and counting and how many more days now.

Eighty-one, I'm sorry I'm so selfish.

Eighty-two, I'm sorry I'm not as strong as you.

Eighty-three, I'm sorry I miss you so much.

Eighty-four, I'm sorry you'll never get this because I've been too honest in this letter.

Eighty-five, I'm sorry it's two in the morning and I can't sleep.

Eighty-six, I'm sorry I think about you so much.

Eighty-seven, I'm sorry you're so far away.

Eighty-eight, I'm sorry I'm home and you aren't.

Eighty-nine, I'm sorry there's so much to be sorry for.

Ninety, I miss you.

Ninety-one, god I can't even stop writing it.

Ninety-two, this has gotten pretty long, hasn't it? You've got courage, you know.

Ninety-three, this is crazy.

Ninety-four, and by this, I mean everything; not just the length of this letter.

Ninety-five, Blaine, you aren't going to be the same when you get home. You're going to be scared and have nightmares. And I'm going to wake up and hold you. Why did you go? Why did you have to save everyone, Blaine? You can't. You can't and you won't. I know I'm selfish. I know, god I know. But why can't you think about us for one second?

Ninety-six, that was out of line. I'm sorry.

Ninety-seven, remember when we made the rule "NO ERASERS"? Well, I hate that rule.

Ninety-eight, you're what I'm talking about. You're everything.

Ninety-nine, you have the best eyes.

One Hundred, you better be saving some lives out there, Blaine.

I love you.

Kurt.


End file.
